


The Noise of Many Waters

by whispered_story



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 19:50:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4758836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whispered_story/pseuds/whispered_story
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Kentucky, in the middle of April, Dean kisses Sam for the first time. [reposted, first posted 19/04/2010]</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Noise of Many Waters

In Kentucky, in the middle of April, Dean kisses Sam for the first time.

They're between hunts, just driving from state to state and checking local newspapers for a new lead. They're in no hurry to get anywhere with no demon or monster to worry about or people to save, and it feels nice. Normal, almost. Music blaring, the Impala's engine rumbling under them and the road stretching ahead of them – endless and deserted. Like nothing else in the world matters but this, the two of them and the car, containing their whole lives. 

They stop for gas just outside of Winchester - after Dean insisted on driving through it, laughing the whole time as if it was the funniest thing ever – and Sam gets out of the car to stretch his legs.

It's raining, just a light drizzle and the sun is already peeking through the few clouds covering the sky, and Sam swears he can smell spring and rain despite the biting scent of gas.

"Want anything?" Dean asks, gesturing at the gas station, wallet already in his hand.

"Maybe something to drink," Sam says with a shrug and watches Dean walk away. He tilts his face up and lets the light rain fall onto his face until Dean returns.

Dean tosses a soda can to Sam and starts filling up the tank. 

"Any idea where to next?" he asks and Sam shrugs, watching Dean's movements, the way the muscles in his arms flex, his relaxed stance. Dean meets his eyes and Sam looks way, clears his throat.

If they keep going straight, heading west, they'd eventually reach Kansas. The thought leaves a bitter taste in Sam's mouth. It's just another state to him, no recollection of home or mom attached to it, but it's different for Dean. Kansas always leaves him a little unhappier, a little tenser. 

"Let's go north. Indiana maybe, or Illinois," Sam says and slides back into the car.

His skin is damp and when he runs his hand through his hair it comes away wet. He closes his eyes and listens to Dean, the crunch of dirt under his boots as he rounds the car, the soft squeaking noise as he slides inside followed by the slam of the door and then nothing. Silence. 

Sam pries his eyes back open, glancing at Dean and then feels a hand reaching for him. Calloused, warm fingers wrap around his wrist lightly and Dean's thumb moves in slow, small circles over his skin.

"Dean," Sam says, and it doesn't come out as a question like Sam intended. Instead, his voice is low and Sam's heart beats fast in his chest. They've danced around this for years, repressing, denying, and always knowing that some day it would happen anyway.

"Sammy," Dean says. "Sam, can I --" Dean's looking at him, eyes wide and no trace of the cocky older brother Sam's so used to. He looks like he's not sure what he's doing and when he leans in hesitantly, Sam meets him halfway. 

The kiss is soft, lips sliding together lazily and Dean's hand tangled in Sam's hair. When they pull apart, Dean presses his forehead against Sam's for a moment, his breath fanning over Sam's face.

"So," Dean says, smiling as he backs away. "Illinois?"

"Yeah," Sam agrees. "Yeah. Let's go there."

+

They don't talk about it.

They clutch at each other after hunts, tumbling into bed together, hands and lips and bare skin sliding together. 

While driving, Dean sometimes rests his hand on Sam's thigh, a warm sure weight that leaves Sam's skin tingling even through the layer of his jeans.

Dean kisses him every morning and every night before they fall asleep, his hands carding through Sam's hair and Sam's hands reach for Dean all the time, seeking contact whenever he can.

But they don't talk about it.

+

There's an actual Swamp Monster in Michigan. Killing it is easy enough, just a couple of silver bullets, but Sam's distracted for a split second and it almost gets him before Dean can kill it. He slips, falling into muddy, disgusting water just as Dean fires the first shot.

"What the hell, Sam?" Dean asks, helping him back up, voice angry.

"My gun jammed," Sam says, wiping dirt off his face with equally dirty hands. It's a futile attempt, but Sam can't help trying anyway.

Dean lets out a loud breath and his stance relaxes a little. "You hurt?" he asks and Sam shakes his head.

"I'm fine."

Dean nods. "I need to burn that thing. You wanna wait in the car?"

"Dean, I'm fine," Sam repeats, voice a little terse and Dean shrugs him off. They take care of the carcass in absolute silence, Dean's movements tense and jerky.

"Take off your clothes," he says when they get back to the Impala, throwing their weapons into the trunk before getting a blanket out of the backseat. "You're gonna screw up the upholstery."

Sam knows the last part is supposed to come out as a joke, knows it from the way Dean is trying to force a smile onto his face, but Dean's voice falls flat and his shoulders are tense. He scrubs a hand over his face, turning away from Sam and Sam feels a sudden flare of guilt.

"I should have been more careful, I know that," he says, voice softer. "But nothing happened."

"Could have," Dean says with shrug and deflates. 

_It's part of the job_ , Sam wants to say, but he knows it wouldn't placate him if their positions were reversed. They've never been able to live without each other, not before Kentucky and especially not after, and just the thought of it makes Sam's stomach churn. 

"Let's go back to the motel," he says and takes off his clothes like Dean asked him to. He lets Dean wrap the blanket around him and sighs when Dean cups his face, pulling him into a kiss, mud on his face and all.

"You stink," Dean says when he pulls away. 

Sam laughs softly. "You can help me scrub off all the mud later," he says and Dean smiles a little easier.

+

They stop getting motel rooms with two beds eventually.

Some nights, Sam lies awake listening to Dean breathing steady, puffs of air hitting the back of Sam's neck and ruffling his hair. Dean sleeps curled around him, arm slung around Sam's waist and bodies pressed together, his cock nestled against Sam's ass. 

It's the safest Sam has ever felt.

+

Dean fucks Sam inside the Impala while it rains once, drops drumming against the roof. He thrusts in and out of Sam hard and fast, fingers of one hand digging into Sam's thigh almost painfully while he holds himself up with the other hand and Sam's moaning uncontrollably. He feels like all the air is being pushed out of him, like he's about to burst and just fall apart under Dean's hands and mouth and cock.

"God, Sammy," Dean groans, lips sliding against Sam's temple in a ghost of a kiss.

Sam holds on to Dean's shoulders, one foot pressed against the window for leverage and he slips on the leather seats slicked with their sweat.

"You feel so good," Dean says and shifts. The change in the angle lets him slide in a little bit deeper, _just right_ , and Sam honest to god whimpers.

Dean keeps pushing in and out of Sam, Sam's dick trapped between their bodies and fuck, the friction is amazing but not quite enough. The air inside the car is sticky and heavy with the smell of sex and the sound of the rain is a steady, rhythmic contrast to their frantic movements.

"Dean," Sam gasps out when Dean's fingers on him tighten and Dean crashes their lips together in a sloppy, hard kiss, their tongues sliding together wetly.

"Come on, Sammy," Dean pants when he pulls away. He trails kisses up Sam's jaw, teeth scraping against Sam's skin and Dean's breathing harsh in his ears. "Come on."

"Dean, I l-- Dean," Sam moans and arches up against Dean as he comes, coating their stomachs. Dean keeps fucking him through it and it's almost too much, Sam feeling stretched too thin, and all he can do is hold on to Dean. 

When Dean comes his body freezes over Sam, before slumps on top of him. Sam buries his face in Dean's neck, pressing a kiss to the slick skin, and sighs contently.

+

They go through a financial dry spell, credit cards almost maxed out to the limit and not having much luck hustling either. They sleep inside the Impala three nights in the row. It's a tight fit and Sam's muscles ache every morning and Dean's mood is getting progressively worse.

"I need a fucking shower," he grouses while they stop at a diner for a quick breakfast. 

Sam snorts. "No shit," he says and Dean kicks him under the table. 

"You think you don't? I don't even wanna fuck you right now."

Sam makes a face. "You know just what to say to a guy sometimes, Dean. Really nice."

Dean shrugs and finishes off his coffee, waving the waitress over for a refill. 

They're back on the road twenty minutes later and when they halt to refill the gas, Sam offers to go pay. 

Dean's resting his head on the steering wheel when he gets back, jerking up when Sam slides back into the car.

"Tired?" he asks.

"Dude, I love this car but I can't wait to sleep in a bed again," Dean says, rubbing his eyes before starting the engine.

"We should find some college town, hit a couple of bars," Sam suggests. "There's gotta be some trust-fund sons thinking they can beat you at pool."

"Should be getting new credit cards soon, too."

Sam makes a humming noise and leans back into the seat, letting the morning sun shine onto his face warmly. "Turn left here," he says after a few minutes of silence.

"What?"

"Just do it," Sam says and Dean grunts in protest, but turns the car. He follows Sam's direction with a slightly put-off expression on his face.

"Seriously, Sam, where are we going?" he asks.

"I asked the woman at the gas station, there's a lake here somewhere."

Dean gives him a surprised look, lips stretching into a wide smile. "I take back everything I said earlier, Sammy. You're so getting laid tonight."

Sam laughs.

The lake looks more inviting than anything Sam has seen in a while. There are no houses around, and there's nothing but absolute silence once Dean kills off the engine. 

They strip quickly, leaving their clothes in heaps on the ground, and Dean runs into the lake with a loud whoop, diving right in. Sam follows a little more slowly, gasping as he walks into the cool water. He swims out to where Dean is splashing around.

"God, this feels good," Dean says blissfully, in the same voice he uses when Sam gives him blowjobs and Sam chuckles.

"Yeah. I was starting to feel really disgusting."

"Yeah," Dean agrees and ducks his head under water, coming back up with his hair plastered to his head and a grin on his face. 

They swim around for a few minutes, splashing water at each other occasionally. Once Sam gets used to the temperature, the water feels nice and refreshing, and he sighs contently.

"Sam," Dean says, closing the gap between them, and he loops his arms around Sam's waist with a grin.

"Hmm?" Sam slides his own arms around Dean to steady himself, treading water and their bodies press together, chest to chest. He can feel Dean's dick against his hip, half-hard and Sam bites down on his bottom lip before any noise can escape him.

"Dean," he says and Dean kisses him. 

His lips are cold, but his tongue over Sam's lips is hot and wet and Sam opens his mouth, letting it slide in and sucking on it. They kiss slowly, dirtily and Sam feels himself starting to harden and he moans softly when Dean pulls away.

Dean's hands slip lower, over the swell of Sam's ass, grasping it. "I wanna fuck you," he says, lips hovering over Sam's.

"Right here? We'd drown, dude," Sam protests, but fuck, he wants to. He wants Dean to slide right into him, the cool water engulfing their bodies and Dean hard and hot inside him.

"Water's shallow over there," Dean says, pointing back to where the Impala's parked. He pulls Sam into another quick kiss before pulling away and swimming back to the shore. Sam follows him and once they're only calf-deep in the water, Dean pulls him down. They kiss again, rolling around in the muddy water and god, it's gonna take a while to wash that all off again.

Dean settles between his legs, their cocks sliding together as Dean grinds down and Sam arches up. The water laps at his skin as Dean kisses him and it's gonna be worth having sand in his ass for the next few days.

+

"Dean?" Sam asks into the still of the night. It's too hot. The air is stuffy and Sam feels like he can barely breathe, sweat covering what feels like every inch of his body.

They're not touching, lying at opposite ends of the bed, covers kicked onto the ground. It's been a while since they slept without their limps tangled together. 

"Hmm?" Dean grunts, shifting around and jostling the mattress.

 _I love you_ , Sam thinks. "Nothing," he says instead.

Dean makes a soft noise and one of his hands touches Sam's arms. He slides it down to Sam's hand and intertwines their fingers. "Go to sleep, Sammy," he says, voice soft and Sam closes his eyes.

+

The shower curtain is pulled aside, cold air hitting Sam's back and legs. He glances back at Dean, who still looks half asleep, pillow creases on his cheek and eyes bleary.

"Morning," Sam says and Dean grunts in response, leaning into Sam, his head resting between Sam's shoulder blades.

"How're you feeling?" Sam asks, turning around, careful not to jostle Dean too much. Dean's back is bruised and there's a freshly stitched gash on his arm and Sam shifts them around until the water isn't hitting any of Dean's injuries directly. He freaking hates demons.

"Sore," Dean says and kisses Sam's neck. "Nothing a couple of painkillers can't fix though."

"You wanna get back on the road today?" Sam asks and he knows the answer before Dean opens his mouth.

"Yeah. I wanna get out of this fucking town."

Sam thinks back to last night, seeing Dean flying through the air, the loud thud of his body hitting the wall behind him. He thinks of the knife slicing through Dean's skin and of his own hands shaking as he stitched Dean back up later in their motel room, Dean biting his lip and sitting absolutely still. "Me, too," he agrees.

+

"We were in Oregon once when you were five or something and it was raining for six days straight," Dean says and Sam looks up from his research.

They're in Bridgeport, Washington, dealing with a hunted library. It's raining outside, has been since they arrived in town the night before and Sam thinks that's probably what's triggered Dean's memory. 

"And?" he asks.

"You were going through that phase where all you wanted to do was play on playgrounds or something and it was driving you crazy that we had to stay inside. You were so freaking whiny, dad was ready to strangle you."

"I can imagine," Sam says with a snort.

Dean grins. "Yeah. Anyway, you snuck out one morning and we found you outside in the parking lot, soaked to the bones and laughing. Like standing in the rain was the best thing ever."

Sam chuckles. "I don't remember that. Bet dad was pissed."

"Well, yeah, but even he had to laugh. You looked ridiculous, man," Dean says, shaking his head in amusement. "Of course, you were sick the next day."

Sam closes his laptop and stands up, stretching before holding his hand out to Dean. "Come on."

"What?"

"Outside," Sam says. 

Dean cranes his head back, looking out the window and then back at Sam. He looks hesitant for a moment before grabbing Sam's hand and Sam hauls him up.

The rain is cold and Sam wishes he'd grabbed a jacket, but he doesn't stop, pulling Dean outside into the open. 

"And now?" Dean asks, laughing. Rain is pelting down on them, and within moments Dean's hair is plastered to his skull and his blinks up at Sam, rain dripping from his nose.

"I've never kissed anyone in the rain," Sam says.

"Can't have that," Dean mumbles, grinning as he pulls Sam's head down, bringing their lips together. 

In Kentucky, just outside of Winchester, Dean kissed Sam for the first time, spring rain dampening Sam's skin.

In Bridgeport, Washington, both of them shaking from the cold and completely soaked through, Sam rests his forehead against Dean's and says, "I love you."


End file.
